Monster
by Mignun
Summary: It started out in a Muggle hotel bar. Minding her own business, Hermione was mulling over her life when a vampire just happened to sit next to her. Knowing what he was, Hermione tried her best to ignore him, hoping that she didn't become his next meal. An attack does occur, and Garrett finds himself stalking a new prey.
1. Chapter 1

The hotel bar was quiet except the tinkling of keys from the piano player. Hermione Granger sat at the bar, apple martini in hand. She sighed. For four months she had been on tour with her new book, a translation of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ with Albus Dumbledore's notes. It seemed that high society life was taking a toll on the young witch's life, as she felt drained from the constant traveling and publicity. Every day she needed to smile for some cameraman, and her hand ached from all the autographs. So, under her publicist's persistence, she came down to the Muggle hotel bar and ordered herself a much needed drink.

Not being a drinker, Hermione picked what the bartender recommended. She enjoyed her apple martini, sipping it gently as she tried to get used to the taste. It was sweet and sour, tasting slightly like sweet Granny Smith apples. The bartender added a few cherries to the mix. It tasted delightful.

Deep in thought, Hermione went over in her mind how she got where she was. The last few months had been a whirlwind of events, first starting off when she found out that she was being published. Then the book had been an instant hit. Witches and wizards all over the world flocked to their nearest bookstore and plucked the book off the shelves. Newspapers and radio wanted to do interviews with her. People wanted her autograph. Her picture even made front page of The Daily Prophet for not only having a best seller but having a book selling so many copies in over a century, beating out Lockhart by millions. The pandemonium of fame sent Hermione's mind reeling.

Even her personal life took a drastic change. Everyone wanted to get to know her, and old acquaintances demanded a lot of her attention. Some even asked for money. Harry and the Weasleys, thankfully, never changed. They remained her closest family, sans her biological family. Her parents were just as proud when they found out that their daughter was such a success in the wizarding world. She had never felt so loved before, despite the constant roller-coaster of emotions she felt on a daily basis. Really, she thought, she finally understood what Harry had felt for all those years. Having fans was a strange feeling, and the constant attention from someone other than friends and family unnerved her.

So the twenty-four year old found herself sitting in a dimly lit American Muggle bar, sipping on an apple martini all while contemplating. Sliding her fingers around the glass's edge, she almost didn't pay attention to the man that sat down next to her. She didn't bother looking at him, but she pulled her purse a bit closer to her body just out of precaution. The bartender gave the man a one over before going back to cleaning glasses.

"Mind if I buy you a drink?" a suave voice offered, and it took Hermione a few beats to realize that the man was talking to her.

"No thank you," she replied, eyes on her sliding finger.

"A beautiful woman like yourself looks like she needs a drink," he insisted, and from the corner of her eye, Hermione saw the man wave over the bartender. When the bartender stood in front of Hermione, the mysterious man said, "I'll have a shot of your best whiskey and another fruity gem for the woman next to me."

"Oh, you really don't have to," Hermione began, turning her stool to the left to finally face him. When she did, she nearly pulled her wand out of her purse. The man - no, _vampire_, she told herself - had dark red irises instead of a normal coloring. While he was quite handsome, with dark shaggy locks that fell in front of his abnormally pale face, his eyes were near black.

He was hungry.

"I'll buy a drink for any beautiful woman I see," he replied with a wink. Hermione nearly flinched when he extended his hand to her. "My name's Garrett."

"Hermione," she greeted stiffly, not grasping his hand. His face fell for a moment before he placed his hand on his thigh. He tried again.

"What's a woman like yourself doing all alone in a hotel bar?" he asked, taking the shot of whiskey from the bartender. Hermione ignored the new glass of apple martini that was placed in front of her.

With eyes narrowed, Hermione replied coolly, "I fail to see why that's any of your business."

Did the vampire really expect her to fall under his spell? With a soft scoff, Hermione brought her glass to her lips and downed the last of her drink. The vampire's face remained impassive as he barked out a laugh. "Hard to please, aren't you? I like that in a woman."

"That's nice for you," Hermione bit out, finally slinging her purse over her shoulder. "It was nice to meet you, Garrett, but I must be going."

She flinched when his cold hand found hers. "Maybe we can get a drink some other time."

"Maybe," Hermione said stiffly, swiftly tugging her warm hand away from his freezing one. Standing up from her seat, the witch nodded to the bartender before giving the vampire a glare. The vampire gave her a toothy grin before chugging his shot of whiskey. Appalled and quite creeped out by the situation, Hermione pulled out her wand the moment she was safely away from the Muggle bar patrons. Clutching it close to her chest, she made her way to the elevators.

She nearly shrieked when the vampire pushed his body into the elevator the last second, leaving her alone with him. Whistling to himself, the vampire gave her a cocky grin before telling her, "Same floor. What a coincidence."

"I highly doubt it," she muttered, intending for him to hear her.

The two remained in an awkward silence, the vampire glancing at her every once in a while as Hermione stared straight ahead. Now that he was in a better light, Hermione stared at his reflection through the elevator's mirrored walls. Indeed, he was very handsome though abnormally pale. She would have deemed him as sexy had he been alive. Dressed in a leather jacket and dark jeans, he held himself like any cocky vampire would, as if he was all knowing.

Hermione wondered if he knew that he wasn't going to make a meal out of her.

The elevator dinged when it got to her floor, and Hermione half expected him to kill her right there.

"Nice meeting you again," she said, taking a step forward. When the vampire didn't move, she turned around and slowly walked to her room. She heard his footsteps behind her. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and she gripped her wand closer to her body. If he were to make a scene, she would not hesitate in using magic. A simple _Bombarda_ spell would knock him off his feet and allow her to Apparate into her room. She cursed herself for not Apparating to her room the moment she stepped out of the bar. Of course he'd hunt her down and make her his meal.

With a shaky breath, Hermione stopped mid-step, her heart hammering in her chest. The vampire's footsteps died down, allowing Hermione to take a breath.

That was before she found herself up against the wall, a firm, cold hand wrapped around her neck.

"Foolish witch," the vampire sneered, covering her mouth with his other hand. "Unfortunately for you, I hate the British."

Hermione didn't scream nor did she wiggle away from his grasp. Instead, she narrowed her eyes and brought up her wand arm. The vampire's eyes widened in shock as she performed a nonverbal _Bomarda_ spell. As she expected, the vampire was thrown off his feet and into the adjacent wall.

"Unfortunately for you," she began defiantly, "I'm not an idiot like the rest of your prey."

With that, she Disapparated with a _pop!_, leaving Garrett lying on his back on the ground. He couldn't help but smirk.

She'd be fun to hunt.

* * *

**So, this is my new story. I'm taking a break from my other story, as I wish to focus on one story at a time. This story I have so many ideas, I prefer this one over my other ones. As a disclaimer, I don't own anything. As usual, please review, favorite, and alert. Reviews mean the world to me on this site, as do favorites and alerts. Hopefully you enjoyed what I have written, despite being so short. My writing is basic and short, though I'll try my damnedest to make the following chapters longer. Again, hopefully you enjoyed what I wrote, and I'll see you soon. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

The tantalizing scent caught his attention as he passed by a bookstore in Salem's Magic Quarter. Pupils dilated, nostrils flared, and throat aching, Garrett turned his head to the opened door in shock. Never had he smelled something so delectable and sweet before. He entered the store. As usual, witches and wizards ignored him as he sauntered throughout the store, trying to find his fresh prey. Typically vampires ignored magical beings, finding their scent to be putrid. That day was a different story. His new victim smelled rich and tasty, so unless a Muggle managed to find their way into Magic Quarter, Garrett's senses had to be off.

His nose led him to the center of the store, where a small witch with brown, bushy hair sat behind a large table. Witches and wizards took turns either getting her autograph or a picture. The witch, however, plastered an obviously forced smile on her face as she signed her signature away, thanking her readers for picking up her book. Taking a book himself, Garrett peered at the cover in curiosity. It was a thin book with _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ written on the cover in purple lettering. A single stump was painted underneath the lettering with an axe in front of it. A spilled cauldron floated above the stump with three hands peeking out of the top left corner of the book. Garrett scoffed. Could it be anymore magical?

_Translated from the Ancient Runes by Hermione Granger_ was written underneath the stump in the same purple lettering as the title. _Commentary by Albus Dumbledore _sat underneath the witch's name. Garrett glanced at the witch sitting at the desk before going back to the name.

"Hermione Granger." Her name smoothly rolled off his tongue. "Well, well, well, it seems as if not all witches and wizards are rotten. Can't wait to see how you taste."

Garrett waited until the store's closing to make a move. Sauntering behind her, Garrett kept himself a few paces away from the witch and her publicist as they made their way back to the hotel. It was a classy hotel, possibly a five star, not that Garrett cared. He knew that she would have little money on her person as she was a witch, so robbing her after drinking her dry was out of the question. A few bucks wouldn't have been much for the vampire, and all his stomach wanted was a bite of her flesh.

He hung out in the lobby, lounging on a couch when he overheard her publicist (finding out her name to be Jeanette) telling Hermione to go get a drink. The vampire's mouth twitched into a small smile.

It was too easy.

If she were to get drunk, everything would be easier. She'd be confused out of her mind as he would lead her away, preferably to a back alley, where he would drain her dry.

Stalking her into the bar, Garrett waited a few moments to allow her to drink her apple martini before taking the seat next to her. She didn't make any indication that she paid attention to his intrusion, instead looking off straight ahead with a thoughtful expression on her face. Taking a seat on the stool next to her, Garrett leaned his elbows on the bar top to get closer to her.

"Mind if I buy you a drink?" he asked smoothly, and at first the witch didn't respond. Garrett's eyebrows furrowed in annoyance before the witch finally replied.

"No thank you," she replied, eying her drink.

_'Ah, British. What a great strike against her_,' he thought.

"A beautiful woman like yourself looks like she needs a drink," he insisted, waving over the bartender. When the bartender stood in front of him, Garrett ordered, "I'll have a shot of your best whiskey and another fruity gem for the woman next to me."

"Oh, you really don't have to," the witch began, turning her stool to the left to finally face him. When she did, Garrett got a whiff of her scent, causing his throat to ache. So delicious.

Up close she was fairly beautiful with freckles littering her tanned face. Large, brown eyes stared up at him in shock as they scanned over his own features, eyes lingering on his momentarily. Garrett wondered if the jig was up, that she knew he was a vampire, but she didn't say anything. He knew that she had to be schooled on vampires being a witch an all. He just hoped she was ignorant.

"I'll buy a drink for any beautiful woman I see," he replied with a wink, wishing to soothe her. He extended his hand to her. Perhaps a friendly gesture would calm her nerves. "My name's Garrett."

"Hermione," she greeted stiffly, not grasping his hand. His face fell for a moment before he placed his hand on his thigh. The witch was cold.

He liked it.

"What's a woman like yourself doing all alone in a hotel bar?" he asked, taking the shot of whiskey from the bartender. He was about to bring it to his lips when he realized that she wasn't taking his drink. He frowned.

"I fail to see why that's any of your business."

Garrett's eyebrows rose in shock. So maybe the witch did know what he was. Playing it off, he replied, "Hard to please, aren't you? I like that in a woman."

"That's nice for you," the witch snapped, slinging her purse over her shoulder. "It was nice to meet you, Garrett, but I must be going."

She visibly flinched when his cold hand found hers. Garrett winced, momentarily forgetting about the temperature differences. He did try, however, to be friendly one last time. "Maybe we can get a drink some other time."

"Maybe," the witch said coldly, tugging her warm hand away from his. She stood up from her seat, nodding to the bartender, eventually glaring at Garrett. Garrett, however, gave her a toothy grin before bringing his whiskey to his lips. He downed it, enjoying her hips sway as she walked away.

'_She has quite an ass_,' he thought as he placed the empty shot glass on the counter. Handing the bartender some bills to cover both drinks, Garrett hopped off his stool and sauntered out of the bar. He managed to catch up to the witch at the elevators, pushing his body into an elevator at the last second. The witch huffed, glaring at him.

Whistling to himself, Garrett saw that she was going to the sixth floor. He devised the perfect cover story. "Same floor. What a coincidence."

"I highly doubt it," the witch muttered, and Garrett couldn't help but smile.

The two remained in an awkward silence, Garrett glancing at her every once in a while as the witch stared straight ahead. She looked pretty, looking all pouty and upset. If he wasn't going to kill her, Garrett thought that maybe a proper date would be in order. He had heard of vampires dating witches and wizards. If she didn't smell so delicious, he would have changed his mind right then and there.

Unfortunately for her, she just smelled too damn good.

The elevator dinged when it got to the floor, and the witch hesitated.

"Nice meeting you again," she said, taking a step forward. When Garrett didn't move, she turned around and tentatively walked to her room. Garrett decided to slowly follow her. He had been calm at first, taking a few strides while glancing at the paintings the hotel hung up on the walls. When she stopped, however, Garrett almost collided into her.

He decided to pounce. Grabbing the back of her shirt, Garrett pushed her up against the wall, wrapping his other hand around her neck. He was shocked that she didn't scream or flail like other victims would. Instead, she remained indifferent about her current situation.

"Foolish witch," he sneered, covering her mouth with his other hand. Perhaps a joke was in order to make her squirm. "Unfortunately for you, I hate the British."

His eyes widened in shock when she brought up her wand arm. How stupid, he thought, forgetting about her magic. He nearly screamed when he felt something push hard against his chest, sending him into the adjacent wall.

"Unfortunately for you," the witch began, "I'm not an idiot like the rest of your prey."

She disappeared with a soft _pop!_, leaving him alone in the empty hallway. Garrett couldn't help but smirk.

She'd be fun to hunt.

He picked himself up, deciding what the next course of action would be. He couldn't just barge into her room, thinking that her publicist would be there. Two witches against a vampire? It would be suicide. Actually, going up against any witch or wizard would be considered suicide, but the witch just had to be so damn delicious, Garrett couldn't help himself. He acted on impulse, yet that literally landed him on his back.

Slamming a hand into the wall, causing a small hole to form, Garrett cursed out loud. He'd simply need to corner her again. The question was where? He thought back to the bookstore, to all the witches and wizards tittering about Hermione, and an idea quickly formed in his mind. Perhaps all he needed to do was follow her around. Her scent was strong, giving him the possibility to track her. While he wasn't a tracker by nature, perhaps something would allow him to follow her.

'_Yes,_' he thought, '_I can just get her schedule._'

Going back downstairs, Garrett first went back to the bar and bought a few more shots of whiskey. While alcohol didn't do anything to a vampire's sense, the liquid still burned when it went down his throat. Garrett went on and on, buttering up the bartender, telling him how the girl he sat next to spurned his advances. The bartender went along with the show, laughing here and apologizing there. Garrett liked him, but he was hungry.

The bartender would have lived if he didn't go out the back way. Perhaps another worker would have been drained dry that night, going out the back door where Garrett waited. Garrett didn't care, as his throat throbbed for the witch's blood. Frustrated, Garrett kicked at the brick wall before disappearing into the shadows.

He had a plan, and the plan would work no matter what.

* * *

**Umm, wow. Thank you so much for all the responses! Over 40 follows, 13 reviews, and I think 16 favorites? Holy shit, thank you so much! I believe I thanked each and every reviewer privately, but if I haven't just tell me! I'll be glad to thank you through a PM. **

**Okay, as usual I don't own anything. If I did, things would be changed in all the books. I don't even own the cover of The Tales. I borrowed that from the actual book that is published.  
**

**This chapter was hard to write, as I didn't know whether to go straight to Garrett's POV or continue with Hermione. Then the first paragraph came to me. You see, I recently got a job as a florist, so I've been working early in the morning. That requires me to get up before 7AM to get ready for an 8AM - 12PM shift. Then I started school on Thursday, and even though I'm taking two classes, it's still tiring. So there's my life story. Working and going to school is making me tired and wanting to fall asleep around 7/8 at night. So I apologize if this chapter isn't that good. I just decided to write Garrett (which is really fun in itself), even though I pretty much copied the first chapter. Did try to change it though. Hopefully I did a good job with that. So please read, review, favorite, and alert. This long block of text is done!**


	3. Chapter 3

As he stood outside the New York City bookstore, Garrett couldn't help but moan in pleasure when his witch's scent filled his nostrils. Ever since he met her in the bar, all he could think about was sinking his teeth into her flesh. The blood would taste sweeter than it smelled, he thought, and he would savor every droplet that fell from her pretty little neck. He pictured her writhing underneath him, brushing against his hard body, trying her damnedest to get away. He imagined her deafening screams that would cause him to chuckle darkly and tell her that there would be no way to get away. He _yearned_ to have her completely defenseless, her frightened mind pleasuring his sick one.

"Next," his witch's publicist said in a bored tone, pulling Garrett from his thoughts. The vampire shuffled forward, _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ book in hand, as the witches and wizards in front of him moved up on line. Still outside the bookstore, the vampire took another whiff of his witch's scent. She was nearly shielded from the foul scents from the others, but Garrett could still make out the delectable smell that pushed him over the edge. Rocking on the balls of his feet, the tall vampire peered over the shorter witches in front of him, trying to make out where his witch was.

After a few seconds of maneuvering his lithe body, Garrett finally saw his witch. Dressed in an outfit similar to last night (a dark red sweater that perfectly reminded him of spilled blood), she wore her bushy hair in a high ponytail. To Garrett's pleasure, it showed off her perfectly smooth neck, the store light shining perfectly where he wanted to sink his teeth in. Once more the line moved forward, and Garrett finally felt the anticipation bubbling in his stomach.

His plan was simple. He would follow Hermione's book tour schedule just to receive a whiff of her orgasmic scent. After the initial signing, he would hang behind and follow her back to the hotel she would be staying at. While he didn't know which hotel it would be, Garrett guessed that it would be close by. The only hitch in his plan would be if she did that disappearing act once more, leaving him to track her down with a standard vampire nose and pure luck.

He prayed that he wouldn't resort to that.

It took a few more minutes for Garrett to get into the bookstore as the line was so long. He realized that he wasn't the only non-magical being in line. Two more vampires were in line behind him, both gushing about the old tales their parents once told them. They used to be wizards, he noted. He smelled a few shapeshifters and werewolves in the crowd as well, much to his chagrin. They smelled foul, worse than what a standard witch and wizard smelled like. What was the best way to describe them? They smelled of rotten eggs thrown in with smelly old socks and pure horse shit. Garrett wrinkled his nose when a werewolf happened to pass by him.

"Mutt," he muttered under his breath. The werewolf stopped and whipped around, sending a glare Garrett's way.

"Leech," the werewolf replied loudly, and a few witches and wizards turned around to see what was going on. Garrett cursed his luck when he saw his witch look up as well, fear shining in her eyes when she made eye contact with Garrett.

"Knock it off, boys," the publicist called, "Or else I'll be kicking you out."

"My apologizes," the werewolf said, giving the witch a curt bow. Garrett murmured curses under his breath as he gave the publicist a polite nod.

His witch, however, leaned to the right to whisper something into her publicist's ear. Jeanette's eyes narrowed as she loudly proclaimed, "Not feeling well? I'm sorry, Hermione, but you must stay and finish. We can't just send these people packing!"

The people in line broke out into a heated murmur, and Garrett nearly smacked himself with the thin book. He just had to open his mouth, didn't he? Now the witch was trying her best to get away from him, but fortunately his luck began to change. Jeanette, he recalled her name from the night before, placed a firm hand on his witch's shoulder when she tried to get up. Garrett smirked to himself, glad that his plan didn't seem to backfire.

"Next!" Jeanette called, keeping her hand on his witch's shoulder.

It took a few more minutes of shuffling and dealing with the horrible smells, but soon Garrett was next to get his book signed.

"Make it out to your favorite vampire," his silky voice drawled as he slid the book towards her. His witch snatched the book away from him, and she jerked away when his cold hand brushed against her warm one. Dark brown eyes met ruby red when she finally looked up at him. Garrett, with a smirk on his face, couldn't help but continue, "Better yet, make it out to 'Garrett, my number one fan.' I think that has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

His witch quickly wrote down what he asked and shoved the book back to him. Garrett gave her a toothy grin before he purposely grasped her hand with his own. He held on tight as she tried to pull away. "It was nice meeting you again," he said with a wink. Once he let go, his witch dropped her hand onto the desk, not meeting his eyes. Garrett sneered at Jeanette, who wore a confused expression on her face.

"Who was that?" Jeanette demanded once Garrett was close to the door.

"Nobody," his witch replied quietly, "Just nobody."

Once outside, Garrett sat down on the bench in front of the bookstore and began to read his copy of the book. He had to wait until nightfall to make his move, and he wanted to stay close to his witch while he waited. So far he found the stories to be standard; they were just fairytales with typical morals for young children to learn. He didn't particularly see why the book was such a big deal. Yet, he _was_ a Muggle before he was turned. It wasn't really for his demographic. Perhaps 'Ancient Runes' was hard to translate. He didn't know nor did he care. He just kept sniffing the air for the delectable scent of his witch.

When the scent became stronger, Garrett looked up from his perch to see his witch in front of him. She seemed angry with her hands on her hips and eyes narrowed. Shutting the book, Garrett placed it in his lap before asking, "How can I help you?"

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, arms moving to cross over her chest. The vampire's eyebrows rose in shock. Wasn't she afraid of him? At least, that's what he believed from how she acted in the bookstore. Perhaps she gained some courage during the hour that passed, he thought as he stared at her. He couldn't help but think how pretty she looked standing there in a fiery huff. A few tendrils of curly brown hair fell out of her ponytail and gracefully framed her face. Her lips were deliciously pink as she gnawed on them, waiting for him to respond. He even glanced at her breasts as she heaved in and out, trying to catch her breath.

Truthfully, he didn't know why he cared about her looks. He wanted to feed off of her, not get her in bed.

"I just wanted an autograph from my favorite author," he replied smoothly, waving the book in front of her face. His witch let out a fierce growl before whipping out her wand. Garrett raised his hands in front of his face as an act of self-defense. "Whoa, there's no need for any wand waving around me. I'm not doing anything wrong."

"You wish to kill me," his witch stated, taking a tentative step forward. "I have every right to protect myself from your kind. Now you will leave me alone and never set foot in the same area as me."

Garrett chuckled darkly. "If only it was that easy."

His witch bristled as he stood up, him using his full height to easily tower over her. She was tiny, standing at least ten inches shorter than him. Garrett chuckled once more, bringing a hand up to her face, using the back of his forefinger to stroke her soft flesh. She recoiled at his touch, trying to use all of her strength to push him away. "Leave me alone!"

"Is there a problem?" Jeanette's voice called from the doorway. Garrett groaned as the older witch made her way to her client. "Hermione, do I need to get the Aurors down here? They're just a Floo call away."

"No, I'm fine," his witch replied, pulling away from Garrett. The vampire dropped his hand awkwardly as she took a few steps backward. With a glare, his witch continued quietly, "Stay away from me. I mean it."

Garrett smirked to himself as he watched her walk away. She would definitely be a challenge, one he hadn't had one in a while. No matter what, he promised to himself, he would make her his, and he would be the one to make her blood fall freely. Picking up his book, Garrett whistled as he strolled down the street to leave the magical village.

* * *

**First of all, holy shit! Thanks so much for all the response. Between the reviews (which are so glorious and thought out) to the alerts, it's just amazing. Everything doubled! I can't believe that it became somewhat popular. It was just an idea that snowballed. Speaking of ideas, I have too many of them (which is why this chapter took so long to make). I aim to make this darker and more twisted as I go, so there's a chance it'll be changed to M. **

**I don't own anything. If I did, everything in all the books would be changed.**

**Just as a warning, this fanfic is going to take a while to write. As I've mentioned before, I have many ideas. I just don't know what to do with them. I want to make it darker and twisted, yet I'm used to writing fluff, so it'll take me a while to write what I like. I do promise no to abandon this story. If I do, I'll have a plausible reason why and warn you all in advance, but that's far, far from my mind. Enough with my author's note. I hope you enjoyed what I wrote this chapter. It took me nearly a week to figure out what to write, and I'm amazed that I wrote this. **


	4. Chapter 4

At first, Hermione was deeply annoyed that her vampire didn't listen to her threat the first time around. When he casually strutted into the New York City bookstore the next day (for she was staying in the city for three days), Hermione's first response was to take out her wand and hex him. Since that wouldn't go so well with the customers that surrounded her, she did the next best thing: glare at him the whole time he was there. Her vampire simply grinned back, giving her a small wave which sent her to a mental frenzy. The patrons gave her strange looks as she muttered to herself about 'damn vampires,' but Hermione ignored them before going back to signing her signature away. She did, however, nearly lose it when he stayed the entire day. From opening to closing, her vampire lounged around the store, picking up random books and flipping through them. He even bought a book after the manger got snippy with him, threatening to throw him out. Her vampire did this within Hermione's peripheral vision. So, for the whole day, Hermione would glance over at him, gritting her teeth the whole time. Jeanette didn't mention anything; perhaps she didn't even recognize the vampire. Yet again, all Jeanette cared about was keeping the customers happy. If there was one thing Hermione was great at was keeping her readers happy.

The following day, her vampire did the same exact thing. He came in when the store opened, flitted about the store the entire day, bought a book when management opened their mouths, and lounged around like he owned the place. Keeping a straight face, Hermione did her job signing autographs and taking pictures. Whenever she met his gaze (for he looked at her a little too much for her liking), she would send him a hefty glare, and he returned it with a smile. Her mind would stop, thinking he was quite handsome when he smiled, before reverting back to distrusting the vampire. Shaking her head, Hermione would quickly collect her thoughts. He tried to kill her for crying out loud! For thinking he was handsome, Hermione mentally slapped herself. '_I'm an idiot_,' she would think before going back to her current customer.

Part of her wished to call Harry and Ron and tell them what was going on. They would be over in a heartbeat, collecting the vampire and demanding why he was following her. Hermione would daydream about Aurors Potter and Weasley bursting onto the scene, wands at the ready while her cowering vampire would try and flee. He would fail, of course. No one could escape Harry or Ron. That image made her smirk to herself whenever she would see her vampire sprawled out on a loveseat in the middle of the busy store.

That was another thing that annoyed Hermione greatly; her vampire seemed to know her book tour schedule and would be at the location the following day. He would be calmly waiting in line outside, sparkling in the sun, thus catching Hermione's attention. It wasn't that hard to see him when the sun was shining, and the tall, lithe fellow glittered among dark shades of robes. Had he not tried to kill her once before – and if he wasn't a ruthless killer at heart – she would think he was beautiful. She, in fact, found vampires sparkling to be fascinating, a trait that Muggle movies seemed not to know. She remembered a time where Lavender squealed about meeting a handsome, sparkling vampire in Diagon Alley one year (who was a vegetarian as he had golden eyes, the vivacious gossip proclaimed loudly), claiming that he was very attractive and the glittering to be a very memorable scene. Hermione wished she could say the same thing, but seeing it day in and day out, Hermione could only roll her eyes. Seeing a vampire sparkle became boring once she reminded herself that he was a murderous stalker.

Oh, Hermione knew that she was the mouse in this game they were playing. It didn't take much for her to realize that she was in a sick and twisted game. Though, she knew, she couldn't do anything about it but protect herself. While she could easily defend herself from her vampire (with a simple and powerful slicing spell aimed properly at a vampire's neck), Hermione still didn't wish to be the mouse. She had once played the measly creature back when she was eighteen. Running from Voldemort and his Death Eaters had been enough excitement in her life, thank you very much. However, and there had always been a however whenever she thought, she knew that with one wrong move she could be the one to have her neck slit open.

Hermione shuddered at the thought. After playing one successful game of cat and mouse, she didn't wish to play it again.

There had been one question on her mind, however, when a month passed by without any problems from her vampire. He followed her book tour schedule and made sure he was always in sight, but she didn't understand why. Witches and wizards' blood – by nature – were putrid to all vampires. As an unwritten law, vampires weren't supposed to drink from witches and wizards. Hermione knew that the Volturi, the vampires' own version of government, were against harming any magical beings for it would cause an uproar. So why did her vampire want to kill her in the first place?

She would think about this every time she saw him. Tempted to go up and ask him, Hermione decided she would try to figure it out on her own. She didn't know much about vampires besides what she learned in her horrible Defense Against the Dark Arts classes back in Hogwarts. Thinking back, she was certain she didn't even learn much about vampires. Since she was already in a bookstore, Hermione bought some books on the subject and began to do a bit of light reading. Hermione bought ten thick tomes total on anything related to vampires and dove right into them.

Not much was said from what she already knew. The Volturi were considered to be the royals of the vampire community as well as enforcing vampire laws. Some of these laws included Muggles not being allowed to know about vampires, much like Muggles weren't allowed to know about the magical world. Death to Muggles would follow if they were to find out, unless they were to be turned. Hermione read on and on about the Volturi and some of the trials they had, blanching at the fact that many innocent Muggles were murdered for just knowing about vampires. A simple Memory Charm would have prevented the killing of a Muggle, yet Hermione had an inkling that the Volturi didn't want help from any magical beings. It wasn't written down, but reading between the lines made it seem that the Volturi and wizards didn't really see eye to eye on certain subjects. Some they did, like their harsh opinions on shapeshifters and werewolves.

Vampires in the wizarding world, however, were treated just like werewolves. They were treated as a second class citizen, even those who still had magical powers upon their turning. Hermione huffed when she read that, despite experiencing it first hand at her first job. Working for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures had proven to Hermione how much injustice was served to those with any creature blood in them. To the magical world they were just a hindrance, something that annoyed her greatly.

'_Calling them a hindrance_,' she thought with a scoff, '_I find that rude. Then people question as to why I get upset at the Ministry, and no wonder why the Volturi doesn't want the wizarding world's help_.'

She even read about vampires and witches mating, creating half-breeds that weren't accepted in most societies. For a moment, Hermione pondered if there had been any half-immortal, half-magical beings while she went to Hogwarts. The further she read on, the further she understood that it was a harrowing process producing a 'hybrid' and that it was dangerous for the witch carrying the child. The mother would need to drink human blood and take many potions that would keep her and the baby alive. Hermione shuddered at the thought and sent a silent prayer for all the mothers who went ahead and had a child with a vampire. She would never be able to do such a thing.

Despite all the knowledge she learned, there had been nothing on what could attract a vampire to a witch besides becoming mates. That, however, didn't require the vampire to attack the witch for her blood. With a huff, she slammed the book shut and stared at the television screen in her hotel room. While the reading had been enjoyable and filled her mind with more information, it didn't answer the lingering question she had. There were more signs to hate her than to want her.

So why on earth would a vampire want her blood?

Sucking up all her Gryffindor courage the following day, Hermione decided to flat out ask her vampire why he was following her around. Asking Jeanette for a moment or two, Hermione stiffly walked over to her vampire as he sprawled his lithe body out on the couch, reading a book on Astronomy. At first she nearly turned around when she caught his gaze, but remembering which house she was from, the witch shook her head and continued to walk towards him.

"Why are you following me?" she asked breathlessly. Her vampire raised an inquisitive eyebrow before closing his book. After no response, Hermione tried again. "You've been at every book signing since Salem. I want to know why."

Her vampire swung his legs off the couch and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. Hermione stared at him wearily, glancing around to make sure there were witnesses if he decided to do anything. She spotted Jeanette staring at them, and for once Hermione was thankful for her publicist's nosiness.

"Because I can," he replied simply, a smirk on his handsome yet undead face.

"You tried to kill me," Hermione stated slowly, going to draw her wand. Her vampire scoffed before going back to his book. "I would like an answer."

"And I would like you to stop talking," he retorted. He looked at her up and down, book opened once more, before saying, "You're in my light."

Hermione couldn't believe how nonchalant he was acting, sitting there and acting like nothing was wrong. For a moment she wished for him to attack her, have her pinned to the wall as he tried to drain her dry. She was even tempted to draw her wand and curse him right there, a childish thought she ignored for he wasn't really doing _anything_. He just sat there, book in his lap, eyes scanning the pages.

"I want you out of here," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. Her vampire snorted but made no motion of getting up. "I'll tell the Aurors what happened."

"Go ahead," he replied smoothly, causing Hermione to grit her teeth.

"What if I say you can drain me dry?"

"Your blood is shit to me."

"It wasn't like that a month ago."

Her vampire paused for a moment but didn't respond. Hermione tried one last time, wringing her hands together out of desperation.

"Why the hell are you following me?" she demanded quite shrilly, and she winced when a few patrons stopped to stare at her. Her vampire, however, seemed impassive towards her outburst. She shuddered, though, at the wolfish grin that appeared on his face.

"Because I can."

* * *

**Okie, here is chapter four for everyone! At first I didn't know what I was going to do (something I'll probably admit for every chapter here on out). Then viola, the first paragraph just came to me and snowballed into this chapter. As you can see, Garrett is still stalking his witch, and Hermione is annoyed with her vampire. Not that dark, I think, but still has creepy and vague Garrett in it. Then again, it was solely dedicated to sleuth Hermione who wants answers. **

**A little info on the Volturi, as I believe the magical world would work with them and have the information I wrote down on them despite both of them hating each other (though, as I wrote, not all vampires hate magical beings and vice versa). I stuck that little info about mating since hey, if it can happen to a Muggle like Bella, a witch could sure survive a vampire pregnancy with proper magical resources. **

**Other than that, I don't own anything. If I did, things would be changed in all books from Meyer and Rowling. I'm just having fun meshing them together for my own enjoyment and sharing it with others who are enjoying it. **

**I want to thank everyone who has reviewed this story and to those who I haven't sent a PM to. Probably a lot of you since I get a lot of the reviews while I'm sleeping and easily lose track of who I'm replying to. So thank you all for the reviews and please keep them coming (they're very nice and supportive). Same with the alerts and favorites. I'm still shocked that people are interested in this little cat-and-mouse game I've created. :)  
**


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